I say this with care, for I am speaking of a woman who has lost a husband, so she knows sadness and brokeness... but this is the first time she's walked through this version of brokeness. And right when she thinks she's ok, another swing hits her. Hard.
Im not much of a hugger. In fact, I envy all you sweet things out there that jump at opportunities to wrap your loving arms around anyone in grief or conflict. I find hugs that I give out of duty, verses genuine desire (odd word choice?), are stiff and awkward. Thus, every day I think to myself, and say to God, "I don't think Im cut out for this job!!! This is requiring way more sympathy and soft edges then I have in supply!"
But today, sitting on her bed, watching my mom break and break and break into a puddle of lost sadness, I listened to the whole story. This including, details shes never shared before with anyone... and I realized... my mom knows. She knows I'm not the worlds biggest softy, and knows I'm not a very good hugger, but she trusts me anyway. Crazy.
Life sure is sobering sometimes, and I have so very much to learn.
But God has placed me in my mom's house at the age of 23 for a reason. Maybe it is so that my mom has a daughter who takes pleasure psychoanalyzing her situations all the while providing eloquent perspectives. Or maybe it is so her daughter can learn the art of shutting up and speaking up... appropriately. Or if we really want to day dream, maybe its so I can squeak out a few hugs.
Who we are at home, is who we truly are.
Doesn't this sentence ever reek of disappointment? Sometimes, my home, is a front row seat to Dani's Looney Town. (Or, Dani-Land, as it was called in the younger days)
Needless to say, I wish I was better at being a comforter.
I think I'm going to take lessons.
Ya know, like sign up and pay big bucks and read all the text books and write all the papers and wrap it all right up with a five page take home exam, pat myself on the back, check it off the list, and move forward.
Yea, because that works.
2 comments:
it is August 12th a day after what would have been your Dad's and I's Wedding Annv. Your mom is no longer broken, but that broken feeling in May is one I do not ever want to experience again. Thanks Dani for being there for me and for praying for me. That meant the world to me. I haven't not shared with anyone else what I told you that day except the Lord of course. You can make me so angry, so happy, and so sad. Why is that? Love you Mom. We would have been married 27 years. I sure miss that man!!!!
Thank you mom for posting this. As hard as life has been at home, and as much of a pain in the butt I am to deal with, you've been healing in leaps and bounds and been doing wonderfully. Love you much! (and sorry about the angry and sad moments...)
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